Friday, July 19, 2024

THE CONTINENT IS YOURS


Binoculars adjust for the eyes.

On a nearby hilltop

a business economy watches 

the normative close in,

circling like raptors 

 

The fire      of repudiation     having been lit

dancing commenced

 

Land rent   not to be

         collected    

                           slavery, tenancy, capitalism

evicted       

from this world   

(its place of progress)

 

w/nu hope 

w/out enclosure   laws of protection

for people,        not property,      freed 

 

*


The sky spits on me

I congratulate myself

feeling nothing

no anger, nothing

no spittle

 

I thrive alone

ignored

perfecting wisdom

while others go blind

forgetting the sutras

 

Let the text have its life

I recall the child

awakened by Mother

over no intention

but sweetness



*


Trust me

goes further

than prove it

 

a la carte

sins in stars

Spinoza’s Monism

 

   coming apart.

No man will tell me 

what to do

 

when I fly away

I’ll ask for Biscoff

Cookies if I please

 

  We age into frailty

cling to the few

distinctions we yet

 

uphold ashamed

and glad to be

forgotten

 

 

  *


I embraced a blind man

Walking his cane through the dark

When his head came off in my hands

 

Morning, and the head was back in place

Hair jelled up like the peak

Of a wooden fruit picking ladder

 

Uniformed, charged with reparations

On a continent stuffed with stowaways

Escaped from their cabins

 

No more heavy lifting

Slavery (Egyptian)

The whole population 

   building pyramids 

 

   or captives taken in war

Slavery (Roman)

The emperor’s face

Stamped on his coin

 

Patricians putting plebians to work

Taxes going up with interest

Into feudal dispensation

 

By strength, for fealty

Land parceled 

Tenants farming

 

Waiting for capitalism’s

   evening out.

Revolutionary

         motivations abound

 


  *


The soul has no connection           to Realty Drive

Pawn your security key       

    deficits, decibels, descriptions

belong to resist - 

                  beyond self

                  combat we

                  recognize

                  the body,

                  recall it’s

                  person

                  now without

                  origin

                  or bardo

                  lights - 

                       the voice    of your   thrown-ness

 

   *


Three disciples climbed

to the full reveal

of the transfigured

form

that can’t be looked upon 

and seen

 

Three disciples

         holding out

                  for a peaceful mind     

         the God-Man

         having promised,

                           “I will send it along     later”

   

Form you desire

                  Beauty       composed          restored

                           to original           face

 

 

                       01.02.2024 – 07.17.2024

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